


Remembrances

by LadyoftheWoods



Series: Consequences [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 03:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20753279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Aziraphale accidentally gets a glimpse into Crowley's memories





	Remembrances

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of a follow up to Consequences. Also, the flower I describe is Trientalis, also known as a star flower. Just seemed perfect.

Crowley was sleeping in the garden. Aziraphale was watching him from the porch, where he leaned against the doorframe holding a cup of tea, in his angel wing mug he’d miracled from his bookshop.  
Crowley had been sleeping a lot lately, but he could only assume that was natural. His body was doing a lot of work, repairing a lot of damage. Aziraphale took another sip of tea, holding the mug with both hands to keep them from shaking at that thought.  
He was sprawled across the wooden bench, one arm pillowing his head, the other dramatically resting over his eyes to block out the bright afternoon light. He was laying on his side, one leg dangling off the bench and onto the grass. He was posed so carefully carelessly, Aziraphale huffed, sure he was actually awake.  
Aziraphale squinted, realizing the grass around Crowley’s foot was lusher than the surrounding other grass. The flowers closer to him were slowly opening their petals as well, turning towards the demon. He knew Crowley was good with plants, but he didn’t know he could do it in his sleep. Maybe he was actually asleep.  
Aziraphale placed his mug on the step, walking softly over to Crowley. He was asleep, but his eyes were creased in worry, his mouth tight with fear. He was mumbling, Aziraphale realized, though it was unintelligible.  
“Crowley?” He reached out, intending to shake him awake. His hand brushed Crowley’s cheek, and he was suddenly somewhere else. 

Heaven. This was heaven? But it wasn’t… there were no hoverboards and suits, no pure white glowing walls. It was heaven from long, long ago, from the early days. He looked around at the sound of voices, pressing himself back against the wall.  
“It’s not our place to question this.” He wrinkled his nose. That was Gabriel’s voice, as arrogant and self-assured as ever.  
“That’s what you say to everything. If the almighty told you to jump into Hell, would you?” His ears perked up in surprise. That was Crowley’s voice.  
“Yes, because that’s our job.” That exasperated voice was Michael’s. The three of them rounded a corner, passing him without noticing. The paths were paved with silver stones that let out a soft, moonlike glow, lined with beautiful flowers in incredible shades, in incredible shapes. Crowley paused besides a withering flower, absently stroking its petals as he spoke.  
“I’m just saying, it seems a bit early to be contemplating plagues. It doesn’t seem fair, to expect them to lose.” The flower bloomed under his touch, flaming reds and oranges spreading across its petals as it stretched up, standing tall once again.  
“It’s not losing, it’s making a choice.”  
“It’s not exactly much of one, is it? Based on the plans so far, y’know. I mean, give them curiosity and then put a giant plant in the middle that says don’t touch? Seems almost like they’re supposed to.”  
“Enough, Raphael. Any more of this talk and I’ll be forced to report it. Please, drop it, for your own good.” Gabriel replied sternly, giving Crowley one last long look, before continuing on his way with Michael.  
“Don’t be late for the meeting, Raphael, your tardiness has not gone unnoticed!” Michael called as they phased out of sight. Crowley pushed back his long hair with a harsh sigh, looking down at the flower.  
“I’m supposed to keep them safe. No one else seems to get that. They just care about their war. Thousands and thousands of years away, and they’re already looking forwards to it. Least you’ll be up here still. And the stars, suppose I’ve always got those to keep me company. Kinda wish I was still making those instead of dealing with them.” Crowley muttered. He grinned, suddenly, shaking a small seed off one of the plants, cupping it in his hands. He closed his eyes, focusing on his vision, then blew onto the seed, a breath longer than seemed possible.  
He whistled, looking down at his work, a soft glint in his eye, as he crouched down and planted the seedling in the dirt. Gently, he whispered to the small plant, until it grew, blooming and seeding and blooming and seeding until the garden was rife with this new little flower.  
It had five sharp green leaves which met in the middle of a thin stalk, three small, almost translucent, ethereal white flowers rising from the center stalk, delicate yellow tipped stamens giving them an almost golden glow in the light.  
“Star Flowers. That’ll do.” Aziraphale had one moment to think before the vision changed again. He realized two things. One, he was in Crowley’s dreams. Two, he had been named Raphael. But there was only-

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Crowley cried. His arms were bound behind his back, he was shoved roughly to his knees in the middle of a summoning circle dimly glowing with holy light. The Metatron sat on the throne before him, eyes piercing.  
“You’ve been questioning God’s will.” The assembled crowd of angels murmured at that, held back from the circle a few feet by a ring of warrior angels.  
“No! I’ve just… had some things on my mind, is all.” Crowley stuttered out, uncharacteristically uncertain.  
“You’ve been disobedient, neglectful of your duties, and were found consorting with traitors, whose sentences have already been enacted.” Crowley’s face fell, astonishment mixed with horror.  
“You didn’t… we were just talking!” He cried. Aziraphale stood right beside him, invisible and unseen to this memory of Crowley, noticing that his eyes were a blazing bright green. He knew what was coming next. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen it himself, had avoided as many of these trials as he could but… he knew what this memory would be.  
“Oh Crowley…” He wished he could hold him, wished he could tell this past version that everything would be alright.  
“They were known consorts of the Great Adversary, fugitives from heaven. It was our divine right to cast them out.” The crowd gave a murmured agreement to this statement, their volume rising. Crowley looked around at them, seemingly realizing something, before straitening up. Despite the tears tracking down his face, despite his scraped knees and knotted hair, in that moment he blazed with all the light of Heaven.  
“I’m not sorry for a thing. I asked questions, I defended life. Those so-called traitors? They weren’t questioning God, they were questioning You. As I do now, you heartless bastard.” Crowley snarled. A stunned moment of silence.  
“You disappoint me, Raphael. You leave us no choice.”  
The circle blazed with light, the angels roared, Crowley screamed in agony as he plummeted, wings aflame, crashing at breakneck speed through the earth and into Hell. 

The scene changed. They were in Heaven again, modern day, Gabriel in his lilac suit and smug smile.  
“Never thought I’d see you back here, Crowley.” He circled the demon, who stood ramrod straight, visibly trying to keep his own temper in check.  
“Never wanted to be back. Tell me, how’s your little army doing now that Adam took away all their toys?” Aziraphale sucked in a breath, begging Crowley to stop taunting him, knowing he wouldn’t hear, it wouldn’t do any good. Gabriel’s eyes flashed and he tsked.  
“Always trouble with you. Never understood why you were one of Her favorites at the start, anyway. You did some good work on the sky, sure, but you never were much use at anything else.” Crowley snarled.  
“Unlike you, I actually cared about something other than myself.”  
“Yes, and look where it’s gotten you. Crawling back to me so your little boyfriend doesn’t get hurt. Can you believe, he actually thinks something like you is capable of love?” Aziraphale saw him deflate ever so slightly. “Why would he ever think that a demon would be trust worthy? What is so special about you?” Crowley grit his teeth.  
“Nothing except I’m not a complete idiot like everyone else you’ve got running around up here doing your bidding. They really believe all your bullshit?” Gabriel punched Crowley in the face, snapping his head back.  
“Bit touchy, are we?” Crowley smirked.  
“And you aren’t, Raphael? Or haven’t you told him that, yet, either?” Crowley shut down, eyes going hard and blank. “or, that’s right, you can’t.” Gabriel tutted. “You can keep him anyways, he’s no use for anything.” Aziraphale saw how Crowley’s hands balled into fists. That more than anything almost made him take a swing, but he held back, just barely, for a tense moment.  
“You’ve had your fun boys. The payment has been agreed upon, now let’s get this done so we can get back to work. We’ve an outbreak to set upon Africa.” Michael appeared at Gabriel’s shoulder. Crowley let out a carefully controlled breath, releasing his wings and kneeling on the floor. Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, knelt before him, hugged him tight, not that he could feel it.  
“Get on with it then.” Crowley bowed his head in defeat, doubling over as Aziraphale heard a sickening snap, face twisted almost unrecognizably by pain.  
“Crowley, it’s all right, I promise, it’ll be alright.” He whispered, feeling like a fool, feeling worse than useless. He was here, right here, and he couldn’t do a thing. He realized Crowley was muttering something under his breath, through the pain, and he leaned closer.  
“For Ziri, ziri, ziri, ziri…” He mumbled his name like a prayer, until there was a sticky tearing sound and the world went dark. 

Aziraphale stumbled backwards, landing on his butt on the ground, utterly dazed and disoriented. He blinked, reacclimating to the bright light. He looked up, immediately getting caught in Crowley’s gaze, which peered at him over the top of his dark glasses. He didn’t move an inch, just silently watched the angel for a long moment before letting out a heavy breath.  
“I suppose the question would be how much of that did you catch, but I’m not sure I really want the answer.” Crowley broke the silence, the usual cockiness gone from his voice, which felt flat and distant. Aziraphale gaped like a fish out of water before finally managing to put together words.  
“You knew they were supposed to eat the apple to begin with!” Aziraphale accused.  
“NO, I had a hunch, is all, no one ever told me what it did. And Gabriel disapproved and I was pissed and newly fallen, so I decided any idea he didn’t like must be a good one. And look, it all worked out fine, didn’t it?!” Crowley shot back, waving away Aziraphale’s argument.  
“You had me worried I’d done the wrong thing, is all.”  
“There was never a ‘wrong’ thing and a ‘right’ thing, that’s the whole point, angel. There’s just choices and ideas and endless tests that you’ll fail no matter which option you pick. The game isn’t designed to be beatable. If you haven’t learned that by now, I don’t know what’ll get it through your head.” Crowley replied, slightly exasperated.  
“We beat it. Humanity, beat it.” Aziraphale replied, catching the subtle twitch of a smile on Crowley’s lips.  
“I’ll give you that one, for now, angel. Until the next cataclysmic event, at least.” Crowley pushed himself up so he was resting on his elbow. He took off his glasses, running his hand over his face and up through his hair.  
“Didn’t expect that to be the thing you zeroed in on, I have to say. Didn’t want you to see any of that, really.” His voice was carefully controlled, he was tense, Aziraphale knew, coiled and ready to run.  
“Archangel Raphael. You’re… him.” Aziraphale said questioningly. Crowley laid back down, staring up at the sky.  
“Was, Angel. Was. Doesn’t matter much now, does it? I was stripped of my name, of my rank, the moment I fell. Any heavenly gifts I had went up in smoke.”  
“Not all of them.” Aziraphale nodded to the plants around the garden, stretched towards him like he was the sun. He groaned, rubbed his forehead.  
“That does not count. The only reason they grew like that is- “he cut himself off, sitting up properly and flinching at the twinge of pain from his back. The wound had healed by now, but the scars were large and ugly, still tender and achy.  
He could feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him, and knew the angel was waiting for the reason, wouldn’t let this one slide. “They grow so well because I unload all my own… loathing… onto them. This time they just picked up on it in my dreams cause they were so strong.” Aziraphale froze, looking at the now lush garden around them, thinking of all the blooming, wonderous plants in the flat, looking back at Crowley and realizing all that beauty came from his pain.  
“Oh Crowley. Oh, you silly dear.” Aziraphale murmured, such kind fondness in his voice that Crowley found it impossible to take offence. Aziraphale sat down on the bench next to him, holding Crowley’s left hand in his.  
“You never did a single thing wrong, you know that? I never knew… you fell because you were trying to protect humanity from heaven, even then. And you betrayed Hell for the very same reason. All your schemes throughout the centuries, even when you actually did something instead of taking credit for something they did themselves, they never really hurt anyone, did they? And you were right, of course, about the Metatron, about all of it. So why do you still feel so… so guilty?” Aziraphale asked, rubbing circles around his knuckles, shifting so their bodies touched side to side.  
“What if I could have done more? What if I kept my mouth shut and went along with it, what if I could have stopped something, anything, that they started? Hell spread the plagues, sure, but heaven crated them. The flood killed so many people, and, and all the diseases and blights and… I was supposed to stop all that, heal all that. But I fell instead. I did what I could, when I could, when hell wouldn’t notice, but…”  
“Crowley. You did everything right. You did everything you could possibly have done. They were always going to do those things, whether or not you were there. You were one voice against a tidal wave, no one could have stopped them, not when they were so convinced they were in the right. They had me so convinced we were in the right.” Aziraphale said. Crowley turned to him then, golden eyes so filled with adoration and face so filled with softness that he held back a gasp.  
“You were never convinced, not really. You know the moment I fell in love with you? When you told me you’d given away your sword to them then told God you’d lost it somewhere. You were willing to lie to God to protect the humans, Aziraphale. Forget Gabriel, forget the Metatron, you straight up tried to con God herself, to protect the humans from everything, even from Her, if necessary. You didn’t even hesitate, didn’t think about consequences, you just did it, because to you it was right. We always played by our own rules, it just took you longer to realize it, you stubborn angel.” Crowley finished fondly, kissing the top of Aziraphale’s head, taking in the softness of his white hair, his comforting scent of old leather, paper, wine.  
“That’s when… that early? But you never said…”  
“I did, in my own way. You just weren’t ready to hear it yet. Or ready to admit it yourself, or ready to admit it to me. But that’s alright. I was ready to wait.” Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s cheek, leaning down and kissing him gently, slowly, feeling the angel wrap his arms around his neck, feeling the happiness wash away any hint of sorrow or memories. None of that mattered anymore, not here.  
“The moment I admitted to loving you was the blitz. You waltzed into a church like an absolute fool, then saved my books. That little kindness… even after everything I’d said. I suppose the fact that you could waltz into a church should have tipped me off as to whom you used to be.”  
“I imagine you were a bit distracted, having been moments away from being discorporated.” Crowley replied, laughter in his voice, it was the first true happiness he’d seen from the demon in the two weeks they’d been at the cottage, and it felt like honey in his heart.  
“you know, I do wish you’d punched Gabriel back. He’s done an awful lot to deserve it.” Crowley laughed at this, a true, head thrown back laugh, before sprawling out along the bench, one arm around Aziraphale’s shoulder, head resting against it.  
“I would’ve, but I needed to behave myself. Wasn’t gonna risk them changing their minds last minute cause of something I did. Gotta say, he punches hard, for an angel.” They sat in comfortable silence for a long moment, just enjoying the feel of each other’s company. For once, Crowley radiated stillness, peace. Aziraphale couldn’t remember ever feeling that from the demon before.  
“Do you ever miss heaven?” Aziraphale asked absently, staring off into the distance. He felt Crowley shrug.  
“Nah, not really. Not how it is now, anyway. How I remember it… sometimes. But we’ve got all that here, anyway. Sky and grass and beauty… the humans make things more beautiful than almost anything heaven ever made, really.” Aziraphale snuggled closer to Crowley, letting out a contented sigh.  
“Quite right. I enjoy you’re work more, anyway.” Aziraphale nodded, looking around the garden, “though maybe you could try growing them using love, instead.” Crowley smiled.  
“With you around, I think I can manage that, love.” As they drifted off, a flower began to grow. A small thing, with five sharp green leaves and translucent petals. A flower found, previously, only in heaven.


End file.
